Reactions and Defaults
by percygranger
Summary: Complete Oneshot. Neal wears an interesting shirt. Peter responds. Written for the White Collar kinkmeme.  Yes, it is based on that shirt from Glee.


re·ac·tion:

1. a. A response to a stimulus.

Peter knocked on Neal's door, patiently waiting for the younger man to open it. The night was just getting started; Neal returning to his suite early to work on a FBI-sanctioned forgery that an upcoming job required. As Peter had half-expected, Neal was shirtless as he opened the door. Peter made his opinion of this clear in his expression and a quick up and down glance. "Nice pecs, Picasso."

"What? A little male nudity against FBI after-hours rules?" Neal said, grinning.

Peter shook his head, "Just put a shirt on, would you?"

"Sure, sure. Wouldn't want to offend your impeccable tastes," Neal went and picked up a white t-shirt that was crumpled on the couch. It had black lettering that, once Neal donned it, read: LIKES BOYS.

Peter's brows came together. He looked at the shirt, then up at Neal.

Neal's innocence was a palpable thing.

Peter looked at Neal, considering. When nothing seemed forthcoming, said, "Are you trying to get a reaction, Caffrey?"

Neal smiled winningly, "Con men don't get a reaction; they create one. Yours was nicely low key."

Peter nodded, "I thought so, too."

They moved to the table, spreading out the documents for the newest con.

"Job," Peter corrected when Neal referred to it as such.

"Right. Of course."

They worked for a while, outlining what the mark's ("Target, not mark." "Yes, Peter.") schedule was, planning when to switch the painting (during a warranted search, the 'target' needed to think the FBI didn't know exactly what it was looking for).

Neal's plan was, of course, brilliant, leaving only one question.

"So, you really like boys?" They were sitting at the table now; drinking an excellent, ridiculously expensive beer that Neal had convinced Peter to try.

Neal's head dipped as Peter gestured vaguely to the shirt. "Of course, Peter, I don't believe in false advertising."

Peter choked on his beer. He leaned forward to catch his breath. After coughing a few times, he stared incredulously up at Neal. "And I'm a strong supporter of medicinal marijuana. Neal, your entire career is made up of false advertising!"

Neal looked slightly hurt. "I con people on the job, yeah, but in my love life-"

Peter's eyebrows shot up, his mouth opening slightly in dismay, "I'm not sure I want to hear about your love life. And, what about Kate?"

"Loving boys does not preclude loving girls, too, Peter. C'mon, where's the twentieth century man hiding inside that 'draconian agent of the patriarchy'?"

Peter opened his mouth, closed it. "Mozzie?"

"Yeah, that one was from early days. He's very eloquent when he's upset," Neal mused.

"Right, so, bisexual?" Peter got back to the point.

"Yep," Neal leaned back, balancing his chair on the back legs while crossing his legs on the table.

"Okay, great. Really."

"Thank you, Peter, your approval means the world." Neal's grin was sly.

"That's… not what I meant, and you know it." Peter's tone was no-nonsense.

"Yeah, but where's the fun, then?"

"We don't have fun. No fun for you."

Neal squinted at Peter suspiciously. Peter's barely suppressed smirk broke into an actual grin under Neal's scrutiny. Peter laughed, "I shoulda known, all those pretty clothes, the hair-"

Neal yelped and pulled back in mock-offense, "Stereotyping much?"

"The opera, for crying out loud-"

"The opera is a world-renowned medium of expressing emotion and drama-"

"See, see!" Peter pointed at Neal as though he had just proven his point.

Neal sighed dramatically, "Well, now that you know, Elizabeth and I can get you to come with us to the Met. You need more culture than your weekly baseball game."

"What? No!" Peter looked appropriately horrified. "Wait, now that _I_ know? El already knew?"

Neal looked shifty, "I may have confided in her a few details of past relationships."

Peter sighed, "Everyone goes to El. Always. Not that I want those details, really, but why does everyone go to El?"

"Because she's amazing, and she _gets it_, emotionally," Neal's face was mostly serious, now. "How do you think she's put up with you all this time?"

Peter put on his 'I am the FBI, and can send you to prison' look, "Careful, now."

Neal grinned, unrepentant. "Always, Peter. Always."


End file.
